The beauty in the perseverance of life
There’s an old wooden jetty along the canal, rotten and hanging loosely into the water. I used to pass it driving to the next town, barely noticing it. Thirteen years ago I spotted a sycamore sapling growing out of it, rooted in timber that was already on its way out.
I passed it again today. Most of the jetty is gone now, fallen into the canal, the rest barely holding together. But the tree’s still there, clinging on to what remains, standing where it shouldn’t.
I think it’s beautiful because it reminds me of the perseverance of life. Even when the ground gives way, life doesn’t. It adapts. It holds on. And sometimes, that’s enough.
I passed it again today. Most of the jetty is gone now, fallen into the canal, the rest barely holding together. But the tree’s still there, clinging on to what remains, standing where it shouldn’t.
I think it’s beautiful because it reminds me of the perseverance of life. Even when the ground gives way, life doesn’t. It adapts. It holds on. And sometimes, that’s enough.
